


Like Ducks to Water

by Starlithorizon



Series: Alchemy and Guitar Ties [14]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, M/M, happy uncles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain and Mr Crieff-Shappey watch Simon's kids for a weekend. This makes them happy uncles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome

Simon Crieff had been a husband for eight years, and a father for six. Martin was the uncle of two clever, sweet children, and he hated that he almost never got to see them. After all, Wokingham and Fitton weren't exactly next door to each other. Still, Martin managed to visit his hometown on occasion, looking in on his mum and niece and nephew.

It felt good in a petty way, knowing that Martin hadn't been the last to get married. No, that was Caitlin, but to be fair, she was seeing this nice bloke. He'd probably propose soon, and Martin was happy for her, even if she was a bit annoying. She was, after all, his sister.

Because Martin lived so far from Wokingham, and because Caitlin _didn't_ , she often got to watch the kids.

Not _this_ time.

Simon and his wife had decided to take a holiday for their anniversary, and they were fully prepared for it to be a family holiday. Then, of course, everyone insisted that they go alone, just the two of them, Caitlin could watch the kids. Everyone assented, and that would have been that, but Caitlin had gone and found herself without a flat (water damage) and with a boyfriend who wasn't very good with kids. As Wendy wasn't quite physically strong enough for a weekend alone with the kids (don't you dare let her tell you otherwise), there was another option.

Fitton wasn't particularly close to Wokingham, but it _was_ on the way to London, where the parents were headed.

The car pulled into the drive just after noon, and the family trickled out on the sounds of slamming car doors and laughter. Martin had the door open before anyone could even knock, and Arthur was halfway done preparing tea and snacks.

"Come in, come in!" Martin insisted, waving his brother, sister-in-law, niece, and nephew inside. He closed the door behind Simon, fearful and resigned to his inevitable Aeroplane Hug.

"Com'ere, you!" Simon crowed, throwing his arms wide, grinning hugely beneath that moustache. Martin laughed nervously and returned Simon's hug, though weakly. He patted his brother's back, hoping to end the hug, but o _h, dear god, no_.

" _Big_ hug," Simon insisted, and tightened his arms round his little brother. Martin grimaced and prepared for, "And up he goes. He's flying!"

"Put me down, put me down!" Martin cried, doing his best to flail out of Simon's grip. Arthur sounded a bit flustered as he asked the kids how they took their tea (even though he'd bought some juice for them), and Simon's wife gently told Simon to release Martin. That seemed to be the answer, as Martin soon found both feet on the floor, hair a wild ginger mess. Arthur giggled a bit, and the kids were laughing with tears in their eyes. Martin flashed a smile at his brother, warmed by the general _familialness_ of the whole thing.

Soon, the lot of them were sat in the living room with tea (for the adults) and juice (for Arthur and the kids).

"We're so looking forward to this trip," Simon's wife sighed, smiling. "I haven't been to London in _years_."

"Oh, I love London," Arthur said. "It's _brilliant_!"

And so it went, until Simon and Colette kissed their kids on their heads, hugged the husbands, and left. Martin and Arthur looked at Thomas and Clarisse, smiled (perhaps a touch nervously), and prepared to spend the next three days with them.

This was going to be _brilliant_.

Probably.


	2. Aeroplane

Though Martin hadn't spent much time with Clary and Tommy, that didn't mean much at all. He'd regaled the kids with child-friendly MJN tales, played Aeroplane with them, and brought them cool presents from foreign lands. It surprised no one that, now six years old, Tommy wanted to be a pilot like his Uncle Martin. Truth be told, that was touching, but the fact that Simon was actually  _encouraging_ Tommy's dream? That was the kindest thing he'd ever known.

Oh, yes, Martin's father had certainly supported Martin's dream, but he'd been extremely pragmatic about it. He'd taught Martin all about being an electrician while telling his son that, yes, Martin probably  _could_ be a pilot. But supporting is vastly different from encouraging. Simon believed in his children implicitly, was certain that they could do just about whatever they set out to do.

And as Tommy was well on the path to Martindom (he was aleady getting to be a good plane-spotter, and he'd been  _very_ helpful while his daddy had built and painted that little model), Martin knew that entertaining the boy would be easy as pie.

Clary, on the other hand, was four and quite the little daredevil. One ordinarily worries about boys climbing trees and sheds with the intention of jumping down with, say, an umbrella. Clary could give those  _ambitious_  boys a run for their money. According to her mother, Clary had: accidentally started a small fire with a magnifiying glass and a bit of dry grass, fallen from a tree from quite high up (how she'd managed to only scrape her elbow no one knows), and pressured three older boys into jumping off a slide with her and come away without a scratch. The boys had all gotten hurt in various ways, and this had all been last week. She was a frenetic little thing, constantly moving.

"Uncle Martin, what are we doing today?" Tommy asked after a bit. He and Clary had found the colouring books and crayons generously provided by their Uncle Arthur, but clearly that wasn't going to be enough. Martin smiled at the kids.

"I have a few ideas of my own, but were  _you_ thinking of anything?"

Tommy grinned, and Martin wasn't quite sure whether that was good or bad.

"Can we go to your airfield and visit your plane?  _Pleeeeeeease_ , Uncle Martin? Please, please, please?"

Martin chuckled and sat on the sofa near the boy. "We can go tomorrow if you'd like."

For the briefest moment, Tommy look caught on disappointment, but then it was as though he realised that he  _would_  be able to go. He looked up at Martin with one of the biggest smiles known to mankind.

"What about  _today_?" Clary asked, looking away from her careful colouring. She might have been a daredevil, but she was a meticulous thing. "What are we doing  _today_?"

"We could have a picnic lunch in the back garden, I suppose," Martin suggested. Arthur looked fit to burst, he was so excited about this idea. They almost  _never_ had picnics, and they were  _so_ brilliant!

"Can I help?" Arthur and the kids asked almost simultaneously. Martin laughed and led his gaggle to the kitchen to prepare the food.

Twenty minutes and quite a few songs involving anthropormphised animals later, the four found themselves sitting on a blanket in the back garden. Spring was well on its way to arriving, heralding itself with gorgeous days like this one. There were a few cotton puff clouds in the sky, the sun filtered golden-green through the trees, and quite a few of the flowers were in full bloom. It was perfect.

Clary and Tommy had argued quite fiercely over who got the last cookie, but Arthur solved the problem by taking it, breaking it in half, and giving the other half to his Skip.

"Hey!" Clary cried, putting her little hands on her hips. She looked like a tiny force to be reckoned with.

"Sorry, Clary, but I just can't keep myself away from Toblerone cookies!"

Martin rolled his eyes at his husband, grinning all the while. Arthur could share everything in the world but Toblerone cookies and his Skipper.

Shortly after everyone had eaten, Tommy and Clary had both begged their uncle to play Aeroplane with them. Arthur took the blanket and dishes into the kitchen and did the washing up. He watched Martin run around the yard, arms outstretched, smiling so hugely. The kids were doing the same, and he could hear everyone's laughter drifting in through the open door. Martin's lower, slightly rumbling laugh was tangling with the kids' high and clear shrieks of laughter.

Watching them, Arthur realised that the kids had taken to Martin like ducks to water, or their uncle to the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so happy writing that last little scene, with Martin running around with Clary and Tommy. He's such a happy ginger airplane.


	3. Cuddle-fish

While this was their house and they were proper adults who could do whatever they wanted, Martin and Arthur almost always ate in the kitchen. It wasn't a rules thing, just preference. The kitchen was their second favourite room, and the one that felt most like home. But this was a special occasion.

Martin and Arthur sat on the sofa, their plates on their laps. Clary and Tommy, however, were sat on the floor, eating on the coffee table. There was a documentary on the telly about the ocean, which Clary was especially thrilled about. Arthur couldn't help agreeing with her—the ocean was brilliant. So was pizza, and that he was having pizza while watching a documentary about the ocean with Skip and the kids was _amazing_.

"I want to be a diver when I grow up!" Clary insisted, punctuating her point with an enormous bite of her pizza.

"Divers aren't as cool as pilots," Tommy pointed out. Clary frowned at her big brother, going menacingly silent. It was always a bit scary when kids went too quiet, but Arthur had seen enough of Clary to know that it was downright  _terrifying_ when she did. She reminded him a bit of Carolyn, and was fairly certain that her silences always meant that there was vengeful plan afoot.

Clearly, Martin was thinking the same thing.

"Pilots and divers are  _both_ cool," he said. Arthur nodded vigorously.

"They're both brilliant."

Clary's glower quickly turned into a beaming smile, and even Tommy looked quite pleased with himself. Soon, the four of them returned to watching a turtle swim about and eating their pizza. They did pause it soon after, though, to do the washing up and get some pillows and blankets. There was no better way to watch  _anything_ than in a blanket fort!

The kids settled on the floor, lying on their bellies in their jim-jams. The adults also settled on the floor, leaning against the sofa. They let the documentary play again and sat quietly in the blue-lit darkness.

As a tentacled mollusk drifted across the screen, Arthur turned to his husband with a teasing grin.

"Want to cuddle-fish?"

Martin choked on his laughter.

"Are you really using a  _fish_ to flirt?"

"Oh, Skip, how could you think that?" Arthur gasped. "Cuttlefish aren't fish!"

Tommy turned to his uncle Arthur, confusion on his face. Martin knew precisely what was going to happen, so he grinned and leaned into Arthur. The steward's arm went around his captain's shoulders, tucking him in close.

"Then what are they?" Tommy asked. That was all the prompting Arthur needed in order to launch into a lecture on the wiggly cephalopods. He told them about how clever the creatures were, about how their eyes were shaped like W's (which thus led to a brief foray into Words the Begin with the Letter W), about how their skin could change colour and texture in seconds, and about how they squirted ink when they were startled. He shot a pointed glance at Skip as he explained that they were mollusks, which only led to Martin pinching his husband on the arm.

As they carried the sleeping children into the guest bedroom after the documentary, Martin asked Arthur, "How on Earth do you know so much about cuttlefish?"

"Because they're brilliant, Skip."

That was the only explanation he gave, and that's all that was needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will literally find any excuse to talk about cuttlefish. They're so cool!


	4. Flapjack

Martin woke fairly early, sun already dripping in through the windows. The bed was empty on the other side, but that wasn't surprising. Arthur was, for the most part, a naturally early riser. That was because he was a _slow_  riser. He loved mornings, of course, found them completely brilliant, but he thought that his warm bed and warm husband were even more brilliant. Martin often woke to find Arthur wrapped around him, loath to get up just yet.

He _was_ surprised to find Arthur hunched over the kitchen table, sketching out an image of a dragon and a little boy.

"Another book?" Martin asked, moving to turn on the coffee maker. Arthur hummed in response.

"Yeah, Margie sent me an email last night. This one seems great, it's about this little boy who meets a dragon and gets him to stop accidentally destroying the village. It's brilliant, I love drawing dragons!"

Margie was the publisher who worked with Arthur. He'd somehow managed to find a job illustrating children's books, and he was becoming quite successful. Martin had even sent Clary and Tommy some of the books Arthur had illustrated, which they thought was incredibly cool.

Martin kissed Arthur on the top of his head, which prompted Arthur to smile and tilt his head back. Martin took it for the invitation it was, pressing his lips lightly against his husband's.

"Pancakes for breakfast?" Martin asked, already gathering the ingredients.

"That sounds brilliant. Should I go wake the children?"

Martin studied the scene before him. Arthur had smudges of graphite on his hands and was just getting ready to move to watercolour. He smiled, unwilling to break Arthur away from his task.

"No, it's fine, I can do it."

So he set the ingredients on the worktop, laying everything out in the order he'd use it, and went to the study to wake the kids up.

Clary was sprawled out on her brother's back, a spot of drool forming between his shoulder blades. Martin grinned to see them.

And then, he knelt at the side of the bed, hands extended. He wiggled his fingers against the soles of their feet, tickling them. Clary was the first to draw her feet back within the protective cover of the blanket. Soon, he had them giggling and complaining alternately. Next, he grabbed the edge of the blanket and flung it to the floor with a flourish. Finally, he grabbed each child by an ankle and pulled them to the foot of the bed.

"Oh, you're awake," he said with a smile when they glowered at him. The smiles threatening at the corners of their mouths belied their stormy expressions, though.

"I'm gonna get you," Clary threatened darkly, the words made less menacing by the giggles that flooded out after. Martin leaned in and ticked their bellies now, and soon both children were shrieking with laughter.

"Come on, you two. Would you like to help me make breakfast?"

"Yeah!" they cried, scrambling to their feet and to the kitchen.

"Morning, Uncle Arthur," the kids said, one at a time. Arthur looked up at them and beamed.

"Good morning!"

After a moment's deliberation, Tommy chose to help Martin while Clary decided to watch Arthur. She settled in near him, content to study the colourful illustration Arthur was currently working on.

"What's that black stuff?" she asked, ever curious and pointing to one of the many smudges on Arthur's hands.

"This? Oh, graphite. It's like normal pencil, but not."

He then proceeded to reach forward and tap the tip of his index finger on the end of her nose. It left a faint black mark, and the pair of them dissolved into giggles.

"All right, children," Martin interrupted, waving his spatula about. "How many pancakes for you?"

"A million!" Clary shouted.

"A _billion_!" Tommy cried, always topping his sister.

"Neither of you will eat a million pancakes. How about three each?"

"Can I have four, Skip?"

"If you insist."

It was a bit of production, making the pancakes, but they eventually found their way to the table. Arthur set his art things aside in order to eat with the rest of the group, like a proper and civilised person.

Everyone was well into their meal when Tommy asked, "When are we gonna visit your plane, Uncle Martin?"

"I-I don't—"

"We can go around noon," Arthur said. He looked at Martin. "I called mum, and Dirk the Groundsman. They both know, and Mum isn't too thrilled, but she doesn't mind as long as we don't bother her further, and as long as the plane is left in the same condition it was found in."

Martin was briefly floored by Carolyn's kindness, but quickly gathered himself.

"All right, well, let's eat and get cleaned up and we can visit the airfield. You'll love it."

"Awesome!"


	5. Night

The adults and children piled into Arthur's car, children safely ensconced in big, bulky car seats. They were a hassle, but the kids knew what they were doing, unlike the adults. Eventually, they managed to get on the road and on the way to the airfield. Carolyn, in a rare fit of kindness, had alerted the groundcrew, who were waiting to show an eager kid around. As Fitton was kind of generally ignored in the big scheme of things, chances like this were few and far between. No one was ever excited about anything to do with _Fitton_.  
Martin and Arthur were shocked, though, to see some familiar cars in the car park.

"I— Douglas, Herc, _Carolyn_ ," was all Martin could mutter. The _Brilliant!_ was lying on the tip of Arthur's tongue.

"They must want to see the kids," Arthur speculated, subtly illuminating his quiet wisdom. "Herc hasn't got children, and Douglas hardly ever gets to see Hannah, and I'm an adult now, so kids are a treat!"

"I suppose you're right," Martin said softly. He turned the car off, and the pair went about freeing the kids from those ridiculous contraptions. How on earth did parents deal with these _every day_?

It took Martin's stern reminder not to run off to keep Tommy where he was. He was practically vibrating with excitement, though, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Once he could see Karl walking around, he gave Tommy permission to run free, as free as the wind blows.

The kid was off like a shot, tearing onto the airfield. Karl caught him easily, which likely terrified the poor kid, but luckily, he was on Uncle Martin's List of Approved Strangers.

"So, I hear you wanna be a pilot like your uncle!" he said brightly to the little boy. Tommy nodded meekly. Martin and Arthur caught up shortly after that, Clary in tow.

"Why can't you ever do anything by the book, Karl? You're supposed to _introduce yourself_ to people before talking to them," Martin laughed. Though Martin always ( ** _always_** ) insisted the Karl use proper protocol over the radio, he had to admit that he thought it was funny, and they did get along on the ground. Karl had been one of the tamer guests at the party after their wedding, congratulating the boys heartily and only getting a _bit_ pissed.

"Right, sorry, Captain." Karl smiled warmly at the kids huddled around their uncle. "I'm Karl, the ATC."

"Hullo, Karl," the children said in unison, making everyone smile. The peace did not appear to have a long shelf-life, though, as the other members of the MJN family headed over. Martin grinned as Herc tried to hold Carolyn's hand. _Tried_ , of course, was the key point there, as she had snatched her hand back as though his touch had burned. But she had looked up at him with a smile that was besotted beneath the sharkiness.

"Ah, the little Crieffs!" Douglas crowed as the three of them stopped beside the group. He crouched down so he was at eye level with the kids. "Hello, I'm Douglas Richardson. I'm your uncle's first officer."

"Wow!" Tommy breathed, and everyone laughed because he rather sounded like Arthur. "That's so cool!"

"Yes, well." He winced slightly, not believing the words, but his smile was constant. Martin was glad for the charade, but a little hurt at the same time. Sod it all, they were friends, and few things were as unpleasant as friends being unhappy about, well, _anything_.

"Clary, here, wants to be a diver when she grows up," Martin quickly supplied. Douglas smiled, and it was clear that even children were vulnerable to the Douglas Richardson Charm.

"Really? Oh, that's terribly interesting! Tell me, do you plan to find any sharks?"

"No!" Clary shrieked, laughing. "Sharks are awful! They eat people, and they're mean!"

"Surely not all sharks are bad?" he suggested.

This went on for a while before Carolyn grew tired of it. Martin helped Douglas up, aware that the old Sky God wasn't quite as spry as he would have liked.

The kids were taken on the full Fitton Airfield tour, and were even allowed inside the plane, provided they _didn't touch anything_. Tommy nodded solemnly at that, crossing his heart with a seriousness that Arthur truly enjoyed.

After touring the tower and various other structures that denoted this hunk of land as an airfield, and after Tommy had been yawning for a while, and after Clary had fallen asleep, Martin and Arthur decided that it was time to head home. Everyone smiled and waved at each other, acting as though it would be quite a while before seeing each other again, even though they had a flight in two days. Still, though.

Once the kids were tucked into bed and the adults had done the same, Martin and Arthur found themselves lying in the dark, hands brushing sweetly against each other.

"Do you ever..." Arthur trailed off with a sigh. Martin frowned at his husband.

"Do I ever what?"

"No, forget it, it's dumb."

Martin leaned in and pressed a lazy kiss to his lips, emphasising his statement, "I'm sure it's not."

Arthur took a deep breath, leading Martin to wonder what on earth had gotten him so worked up. This really wasn't like Arthur at all.

"Do you ever wish that we had children? Of our own, I mean." Martin was floored. That question was... Well, it was one that he ignored, really. Before, well before Arthur, he'd come to terms with the fact that he might never be a father. Being a man with a van in a tiny attic flat and several failed CPLs under his belt—well, that didn't exactly scream Father Material. And then, once he was hired at MJN, the possibility slipped further away. What he and Arthur had now was good. Perfect, even. But their lifestyle wasn't really one to raise a child in, was it? Martin couldn't bear to leave the sky, and even if Arthur was willing, it was so unfair to just leave him with a child while he jetted off for days at a time.

Lying here in the dark, touching so lightly and feeling so content, Martin didn't care if there was a right answer or not. There was only one thing he could say to Arthur and mean it.

"I think that having children of our own would be nice, but ultimately, it wouldn't be a good idea. We have MJN and everything. We have Tommy and Clary and Hannah to look after if we like, which would help, I think. I love you, and I'd love to have little Arthurs running around and making a mess and singing along with you, but would you want to sacrifice your dreams?"

It was quiet for a moment, only the gentle movements of fingers against palms making a sound. The air was breathless and perhaps a bit dizzy.

"I was so worried that you might regret not having kids," Arthur whispered after a while. "I love you, and I love that you're really a get-married-and-have-children kind of fellow, but I'm... I'm not. I'm a great uncle, but I think I'd be a rubbish dad."

Martin kissed his nose now. "Why on earth do you think that? You're amazing with kids."

More silence before Arthur's answer, hushed with shame.

"What if I'm too much like him?"

Arthur, oh, Arthur. Martin closed the small distance between them, gathering the larger man into his arms and drawing him near.

"You are _not_ your father," he whispered fiercely. "You are Arthur Crieff-Shappey, and you are brilliant and beautiful and _good_. And you would be a great dad, for the record."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Completely."

Arthur sighed again, but with easy happiness this time.

"Thanks, Skip."

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, even the fluff has to get serious.  
> And, for the record, even with Martin's encouragement, Arthur would rather be an uncle than a dad. He loves responsibility, but to be responsible for a whole other person is kind of terrifying for him. He's relieved that Martin feels the same way.  
> Only bringing this up here because I doubt it'll come up again!


	6. Farewell

Today was the kids' last day, and the adults were ready. They both tickled the kids awake, and Arthur found himself literally carrying Clary into the kitchen over his shoulder.

"What should we have for breakfast?" Martin asked, raising an eyebrow and a smile at Arthur.

"Cake!" Clary shouted, as Tommy cried "Ice cream!"

"How about, instead of cake and ice cream, we make French toast?"

Tommy, Clary, and Arthur all responded enthusiastically. And, since Arthur was helping Martin cook, he made a command decision to make stuffed French toast. Soon, four plates piled with bacon and French toast sandwiches stuffed with fruit and whatnot (and perhaps a bit of Toblerone) made their way to the table. Conversation was minimal, which Arthur enjoyed. Quiet at a table meant that everyone was enjoying their food, and judging by the speed everyone ate their breakfast, he figured that it was true.

Arthur did the washing up as Martin went to help the kids get their things together. These past few days had been good, incredibly so, and he was not looking forward to seeing them leave. Their parents would arrive around one, and things would go back to normal. There would be no children screaming with laughter, or bickering over cartoon characters, or sleepy little things snuggled against his side after dinner.

The thing, though, was that Arthur genuinely didn't want children. He loved his life with Skip as it was. There was nothing lacking about it. And he was glad, so glad, that Martin felt the same. He'd been right when he said that kids could visit and it would be just as good. Hannah was growing up, but she asked about visiting at least once a month. Tommy and Clary would likely ask about visiting just as regularly. What they had was perfect, and brilliant, and having young visitors would only add to the brilliance.

Arthur wasn't sad that they were leaving because it would leave the house bereft of children—he was sad because he liked them and would miss them.

"Can we play Aeroplane again?" Tommy asked as the three of them headed back into the kitchen. Arthur chuckled, putting away the last of the dishes.

"Well, I don't see why not." Martin looked up at Arthur and grinned. "Care to join us?"

"Oh, would I!" Arthur crowed. He led the charge to the back garden, and it took no time at all for the two adults and two children to be running in serpentine shapes and making aeroplane sounds. At one point, Martin's hand brushed against Arthur's, and Arthur grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him to kiss him soundly. A cheerful chorus of "Eeeww!" sounded from the littler planes, but neither man minded.

One o'clock came too soon, though. The gaggle had headed back inside so Arthur could prepare tea and snacks. He grimaced as he poured the last of the kids' juice into their cups. Something about it felt so final and sad. He'd enjoyed having Hannah over, just as much as Tommy and Clary, but letting her go hadn't felt so far from brilliant. Eventually, Simon and Clarisse arrived and the children were excited to see their parents. There was light conversation about London and the kids. Everyone enjoyed their snacks. Simon gave Martin his Aeroplane Hug, which Martin protested against loudly (to no avail). There were more hugs all around, and just like that, the kids were gone, heading home with their parents.

Martin went to where Arthur was standing in the entry and put his arm around his husband's waist.

"They can visit soon, I'm sure," Martin said softly. Arthur nodded mutely, and Martin rested his head against his shoulder. They stood there for eons, centuries, days, just a couple of minutes, peace settling around them like flower petals.

Yes, what he had with Skip was perfect. It was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> While this series hasn't been THAT chronological, I'm going to start throwing time to the wind and doin' what I want. I don't want anyone getting confused! :)


End file.
